


Highbrow Culture

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Asphyxiation, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-26
Updated: 2012-11-26
Packaged: 2017-11-19 15:43:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/574919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Rose explores the dreambubbles, she enjoys a little intellectual discourse and cultural exchange with the late Mr Zahhak, discussing such topics as sincerity, class division, fine art, music, dance, perversion and restraint.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Highbrow Culture

The Seer of Light drifted aimlessly through the twisted mashup of lands. The boon of power unlocked by her apotheosis was, if nothing else, terrifically convenient. At its core, a Seer of Light was but a mere fortune teller, but a Godfountain of Fortune’s Sight was not something to be underestimated. With her mind's eye as her crystal ball, she could see all the answers, well, almost all of them. There were some distinct dark pockets, the likes of which Scratch had made mention of, some because of outside forces at work, some by necessity as their knowing would violate the alpha timeline, and some that were self-imposed. For one so invested in uncovering secrets, to know all the answers would be fate far worse than death. As such, there were some places that Rose refuse to apply her abilities unless strictly necessary. One such place was the realm of her dreams.

The dark gods and elder things that lurked beyond the veil were surprisingly cooperative when it came to providing an ad-hoc afterlife. With naught but ghosts and memories that had bubbles for each dead dreamer, those bubbles had then began amalgamating together into a complete imitation of a land, populated by the dead and both existing and not existing at the same time- A curious false land that teetered on the edge of the real, The Land of Null and Dreams, of Gods and Sleep, Unknown Kadath. 

This was her retreat, where she had plenty of strange and fantastic things to uncover as the three years continued to drag on- a colourful reprieve from the dull splintered cells of the meteor's military grey halls

 

Rose descended upon an as of yet unexplored part of the dreamlands, a sombre place filled with caves and copious amounts of sand. Everywhere is silent, completely void of sound. 

Of particular note was a certain stone temple structure, one of several that adorned this region; however this one was unlike the others for it was occupied.

The young troll man gazed at Rose over crossed arms and through cracked sunglasses. On other side of him stood a pair of trollian gynoids, completely motionless and with expressionless red eyes.

Halt stranger. Who are you that go about my land?

His voice was sharp and precise, and his words to the point. 

My name is Rose Lalonde. I believe we may have had the pleasure of intercourse prior to now, but if I am in fact mistaken it is a pleasure to meet you.

Rose performed a mid-air curtsy with her celestial vestments. Some might say she showed an indecent amount of leg with the gesture, if they were from say, the eighteen hundreds. There is not a human alive that still holds such standards, the human race's abysmal population of four notwithstanding. Nonetheless a bead of sweat trickled down the long-haired boy's face.

Have we met? I do not have memory of ever seeing a...no, please forgive me. I do remember you- the Rose human. You were not very illuminative when it came to e%plaining the human caste spectrum. The insincerity of you and your teammate left me very e%asperated by the topic of your human social stru%ture. Such a prolific habit of disingenuousness is very… unbecoming

The boy frowned. He spoke in a manner that Rose likened to a not so blunt Karkat or a less roundabout Kanaya. Between that, her ectobrother's irony, Pyrope's macabre facade and the harlequin...Rose couldn't find a straightforward conversation on the whole meteor. Only the one named Aradia had come, she seemed, open enough. Oh, verbal gymnastics were all good fun and games but to have no reprieve day in, day out, it was mentally exhausting.

Indeed, and you were...centaursTesticle, am I correct? I never did get your real name.

That was intentional. It would be unseemly to 100se even the slightest ground when engaging in a contest of wits. The intent was to e%ert our will upon the events of your game session, and in doing so either prevent the arrival of the demon, or engineer a solution to the problem he presented. Since we are meeting face to face, I can only conceive that the situation was resolved.

To say it is resolved would not be completely right, I think, but I would say it is very much being resolved and for the most part requires no further action. ‘As good as done’ to use the idiom.

Then that is a satisfactory outcome. Then it would be e%tremely rude of me to withhold my name at this point. I am Equius Zahhak, and I am pleased to meet you, Rose human

If you don't mind, you don't need to call me 'Rose human'.

Then what would be an appropriately formal title for your rank and stature. I would loathe giving you too much or too little respect.

'Miss Lalonde' will do then, on any other day I might have insisted it was 'Her Majestic Flighty Broadship Dame Mistress Pompadour La Roux', but I am weary of jumping through so many such hoops of late.

More of your human deception addi%ion. So you agree that such behaviour is e%tremely unbecoming for a race of Troll e%ogenesis?

No, and once I have my allegorical wind back I'll be matching every puff of hot air like tomorrow itself is a child's bedtime story, I'm just warning you that next time we meet I won't be straight and narrow with you.

I do not understand. Your physical appearance depends on the amount of deception you accomplish? That is preposterous and you are being f001ish.

Equius' brow twitched as a few drops of sweat beaded upon his brow.

Never mind, I seem to have misrepresented myself. Miss Lalonde will be fine, Mr. Zahhak.

Very well then. Now, it would be very rude of me to demand we continue this conversation in the open. Come inside Miss Lalonde

The two robotic trolls stepped aside and allowed Rose to pass. Together with Equius she entered the temple, but as they passed through its entrance their surroundings underwent a whirling shift, and instead of a temple she found herself in a somewhat more modern looking bedroom.

This is my hive. Authour should be here shortly with refreshments. I e%pect you drink milk.

Equius turned to look at the orange-clad god. What he said was a statement but he still seemed to be expecting an answer.

Yes, I drink milk. Not exclusively, but I do drink it when the occasion arises.

Equius grunted, but seemed satisfied with the answer. Rose turned her attention to the broken robots lying about the floor.

Are these the same as those two robots outside?

No. These are merely sparring dummies, designed to fight, break, and be easily repaired. Aradia and Aradia have much more complicated systems.

Rose reached towards a severed robot head.

May I?

Equius gave a curt nod. Rose lifted the head up to look it its remaining eye. Equius continued his explanation unsolicited.

 

Aradia and Aradia are both the prototype model for my soulbot design, a machine designed to take an e100sive wayward soul and pin it to corporal form. To make the transition as comfortable as possible, it replicates many functions of a living body. It breathes, though it needs no air. It has b100d and has...'had' a heart to pump it. It has a series of microchips in metaphorically appropriate places to replicate the emotional augmentation caused by hormonal secretions. I could not find a satisfactory way to allow her to eat, so I made sure to suppress any phantom feelings of hunger that might arise. It is as complete a simulacrum as is scientifically possible without hundreds of years of research, an e%quisite piece of technology.

Apart from digestion, were all other organs accounted for? Were all other feelings 'augmented' as you say? Perhaps you took the opportunity to 'enhance' some things you felt were lacking?

Rose transferred a kiss from her finger to the disembodied robot head's featureless face.

Miss Lalonde I fear you are suggesting something very 100d. You will stop that at once.

Pardon me then if I have offended you. I was merely trying to broach the topic of what your relationship was with these 'Aradias'.

Not Aradias. Aradia. There is only Aradia. As you may know, a troll has many needs. For a while now I have not been able to find Nepeta, my morail. It was a very harrowing experience I would not inflict as anything but the most cr001est of punishments.

Yes, I've heard a bit about this part of troll society, mostly abridged through John. A morail is something of a mix between a parole officer and a therapist, yes?

I do not know. I am not familiar with these human terms. A morail protects.

Protects what?

Everything. The troll from the world, the world from the troll, and the troll from the troll. It is f001ishly straightforward.

I think I was right in my comparison. So you could not find Nepeta?

No. I searched but it was a 100dicrous task. If I dwelt on her too much I would see apparitions of her, but I soon realised they were nought but figments of a fraying mind. It was then I found Aradia. Neither of us feels we are a serendipitous pale couple, but there is no shame in what we have. As for Aradia, she found me soon after, and engaged in some...very 100d caliginous courting. I will speak no more on the matter

If you wish, I won't invade your privacy.

Rose placed the head on the floor amongst its brethren, and then wandered over to the pictures that adorned the wall. When she had first arrived she had dismissed it as mere pictures of animals, but now that she had a chance to get a closer look...

Oh. Oh my, oh me, this truly is a real and undeniably potent piece of work here.

She hesitantly traced a finger along the painted curve of a musclebound horse's bulging quadriceps.

You are an admirer of fine art?

Equius wrung his hands together. Perspiration started to trickle all down his face.

This truly is marvelous. Masculinity so far exceeding the masculine it becomes emasculating in itself. The use of horses suggests great speed no person can ever hope to catch up to even if they killed themself from exertion, and the..." Rose swallowed. "theopaniphic proportions of their endowment implicate, no, all but explicate such omnipotent virility that it exceeds the theme of satisfying and comes around conveyance of being unworthy of satisfying. Every aspect of fertility and untamed nature is taken so far as to be removed anything even remotely sexual and instead becomes self-reinforcing reverence to the natural order, survival of the fittest, to be STRONG!

Rose turned Equius, her inner psychoanalysist working overtime to process every little possible tell in the alien boy's visage. The boy that stood before her was no mere boy, he was Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung having hot sweaty gay sex behind closed doors in gender inappropriate clothing, and they were both muscle wizards.

You...understand my Art.

He even enunciated the capitalization of 'art'. 

Everyone until now has decried these masterpieces as obscene debauchery, those philistines! Uneducated plebeians and empty headed aristocrats all of them! If you do not mind, could you pass me that head by your foot there?

Equius pointed with a clammy hand. Even from where she was standing Rose could the sweat flowing down his face. With no better course of action she obliged and tossed him the metal skull. When he caught it his fingers sunk a quarter inch into the reinforced metal. He placed the component on the inside of his arm, gave a grunt, and crushed it with a single movement of his arm. 

One more.

Rose tossed him a second head, this one with several wires hanging from its eye socket. Equius deftly caught it. He glared into its one remaining eye, held it against his skill and crushed it against his forehead until the part was as flat as a sheet.

Feel better?

Very much so, I apologize for subjecting you to such an unseemly display.

No it's quite alright, it was actually rather insightful.

Now where were we...ah yes, you like my art.

Very much so, each piece is volatile in its expressiveness. It reminds me of my ectofather's work, although he aims for something more avant-garde.

Hmm. The tealb100d showed be some of Mr Strider' work. I am afraid I lacked the context to appreciate whatever social commentary he was making. Perhaps your human shared ancestor worked with more universal matters that I would be able to grasp his sentiments.

Oh I think you would get I very good grasp of his sentiments. He was a very hands-on artist and I think you would be hard pressed not to get a feel for his passion.

Equius dropped the flattened robot head and furrowed his brow. Rose tried to ignore the sliver of bright red plastic stuck to his eyebrow.

Miss Lalonde are you suggesting something 100d again?

Not in the slightest.

So the human with angular umbral lenses, he was a respected artist? I am still unsure is to the idea behind your human social system.

Well, where I come from, the idea is that everybody is born equal.

Preposterous. A society cannot exist without leadership and subservience.

Despite the idea, we are not without classes, as you guessed. The main dividing factor between classes is money, and how much money you have is dependent on what you do for a living and how good you do it. In that respect it would not be untrue to say that what class you fall into depends on what kind of work you do.

I see. This is starting to make more sense now. We, too, have some pursuits that are regarded as more noble and respected than others.

My ectofather catered to a very niche art market, but he had the market truly cornered, I'm not sure what the Troll equivalent would be, but from what my brother has told me of their income he is a little on the lower side of middle class.

Hmph. That is rather disappointing to hear, and what of yourself?

I could not say for sure what our income was, or who she even worked for, but my Mother was a surprisingly talented scientist.

Ah. The ruthless rigours of technology are indeed a noble pursuit.

It is only a pity that was the only 'noble' thing about her.

Rose cast a tired glance to the twelve paneled window.

Your human 100sus shared ancestor was an uncouth guardian?

To use those terms politely, yes. I never saw her actually doing her job, or doing anything for that matter. All she did was drink liquor every day, play at homemaker, and wage a petty war of one-upmanship with her own daughter.

I see. I too, know what it is lack the authority to instruct your superiors when they act in a manner unbefitting for their station. However, there may come a day when you see what they could have been all along. The beauty of such a sight as it comes so late is...bittersweet

An unsightly black bruise faded into view as Equius thoughtfully touched his fingers to his neck.

Rose glanced about the room and let out an exasperated sigh.

It seems I got a little too distracted, and have abducted you into my own home.

Then you will stop having had abducted me, and instead be having had invited me to your abode. You will do that right now.

I'm not quite sure semantics work that way.

They do. Your Earth semantics will know their place beneath my Alternian authority.

Very well then, this is my home, and you are already having been welcomed to it.

That is satisfactory.

Equius moved across Rose's messy room, and paused to give a slight glance at all the knitwear scattered about the floor before examining her poster collection of zoologically dubious creatures.

I see you too have much respect for noble beastkind.

I would be lying to say otherwise- To exist outside of all creation, such a fascinating concept to reflect upon. They are memento mori taken to the greatest extremes, a timeless reminder that when considering all things, a single quark is no more and no less significant than every other object in and out of existence. 

So as your matriarch pursued the logical callings, is it your intent to follow in her footsteps?

I am afraid I never had much patience for physics and engineering. I have placed much thought on the matter, but never reach a conclusion. I suppose it may come about that I become a television psychiatrist, and publish the occasional novel on the side.

A Propagandartist is an e%cellent and respectable pursuit worthy of your noble heritage. To decide which information the masses receive and which they remain ignorant of is a proud responsibility indeed.

As much as I would like to disagree with you, I can't deny Madame Winfrey's effectiveness- a fine case in point that you don't need a prohibition to enforce censorship, just a decent time slot and a book club.

Rose noticed Equius' gaze upon the violin in the corner.

You're interested in music?

Yes. I enjoy the hallowed sagas of my ancestors

Do you play anything yourself?

Rose walked over to the violin, picked it up and tucked it under her chin.

I do not. I have attempted to learn the lyre as befitting one of my b100d color, however that proved to be...futile. Like most things, I was unable to find one STRONG enough to withstand my might

Well that is a pity,

Rose picked up the bow and drew out the first few notes of a warm up refrain. 

Do you by chance sing at all?

I do not sing. However...I do my utmost to keep in practice with the aristocratic art of the ancient slam poets. The Dav...'Strider' seemed to be impressed by them

Then allow me to let slip a war beat that we might perform together, and make it plummet like a superheated biocrisis meteor the approximate mass of Texas

Rose thought back to the thousands of hours spend being procrastinately productive in the way only a child with limitless free time and internet access can be. Her day glow orange god hood vanished, and was replaced by a frilled black and purple dress and hard-soled shoes. Rose shifted her refrain into something a little more lively, while her feet began to tap out a beat.

I made a wager some time ago with John. We each had a month to put together a tap routine. He performed a Sean-nós dance while I did 'Putting on the Ritz', Dave and Jade judged. I lost, but I maintain that incorporating magic tricks into the routine went against the spirit of the thing. You don't try to underestimate him, but it happens anyway, but I digress. Mr. Zahhak, let's see what you can do.

 

 

Then let me start by explaining, in 100 of wiggler school, what it means to be b100  
Don't let slander skew your view, those lowblood lies have less merit that the drool of a ghoul or a m001 in a pool  
To leave you ignorant would be cr001, this is something I must attend to, and push through the untrue that you will soon be deaf to  
Due to the ballyhoo worldview that the peons tend to accrue, we b100, as a gag r001, are painted quite the f001  
We are accused of treating lowb100ds like a rusted t001, while offering ourselves to the highbloods as a literal foot st001, in the nude, how crude,  
But that is what you come to expect from those so filth-hued, their minds are skewed and they don't see the shrewd purpose of the spectrum b100d feud  
They fancy they are subdued because it fits the empress' mood, that to the echelons above they are but beast food, how laughably wrong they have been all along  
Trolls and harmony just do not belong, this matter has many a prong and each tongue is but one of a throng and to split these schisms would be trollkinds' slicked musclebird song  
If a troll is a blade then the castes are our grindstones, the friction between us hones our minds, flesh and bones  
And above and beyond what the other hues have done, it is the duty of a b100 b100d to keep trollkind STRONG  
If a troll is a blade then the castes are our grindstones, the friction between us hones our minds, flesh and bones

My honour and duty, as a b100 b100ded beat friar, is to move sky and mountains, deep crow and space sparrow, whatever it takes to keep my trolls straight and narrow  
So I harrow with this b100 bolero the surest route for pursuit of the Alternian ideal which is not so simple as just grinding the boot and, pardon my language, kissing waste chute  
You will avoid the trolls of ill repute; they seek to pol100t the astute, from the caballero to the pharaoh right down to the marrow  
Keep exceptional distance, inform a drone or seasucking minnow, they'll soon be clapped in irons and pierced with an arrow, for a bad tree bears bad fruit and you must shoot with iron acute to cleanse the brute of the filth that now flows through his blood flutes  
It is trolls like myself that you should salute, follow suit and seek the root of an ideal troll squire, for in the wasteland of 100se morals I am a spire, the higher, for you to admire  
Your highbloods and ancestors you should admire and in lowbloods you sh001d aspire to sire a briar of respect, to bind their hands and hands, better words than a pyre to inspire the fear of god-empress when they stand upon the wire  
Do not waste your time to preach to the choir to must seek those that tire, the bow of stru%ure you must fire before they conspire to break time-tested tradition and retake the mistakes of terrorists gone by  
They seek to quake the status quo, to shake divides apart and remake the world in a kinder image, but if they think the matter is simple and opaque they need to awake  
A departure from the path of the war marcher leads only to ruin, fix your peers’ misconceptions or they'll soon meet the archer  
If you walk the path of revolution you must pull the brake, there is a snake it that cake and if you don't stop it will eat you for sure, forsake this f001ish path and take the road well traveled for the other is fake  
A departure from the path of the war marcher leads only to ruin, fix your peers misconceptions or they'll soon meet the archer

 

Rose put down the violin.

Oh. Are we done? I still have four more verses

I am afraid so. You're working up quite a sweat there and look like you could do well from a rest.

Yes, discussion social stru%ure does tend to get me e%treemly...worked up.

He turned away, and looked about the room some more. His gaze fell upon a small metal music box on her mahogany bedside table.

Rose raised an eyebrow, maybe even allowed the corner of her mouth to raise into the contemplative smirk of a card player dealt a pleasant surprise and knows luck is no longer the main factor.

Oh this? Does it interest you?

She walked over and picked it up.

It is a Betunement Apparatus, correct? Aradia and Aradia are quite fond of them

Yes, this was a gift from my mother, when she discovered I was learning a dance. No doubt she got it for me as a not s subtle jab at the rather classless tap I had chosen to learn, and wished to remind me of more noble movements.

Rose wound the little brass box up and flipped the lid. A little tune tinkled out, and two little figures dressed in genuine silk finery began a stilted waltz to its tune.

So to get her back I spent the next year becoming adept at this dance too, performed for her once, then never again. She retaliated with a genuine gold trophy, of course, but I won't bore you with that particular branch of escalation

I see. You seem to take it upon yourself to master many noble arts

If there's one thing I won't stand idly for, it is implications I am incapable of doing something. I know what I can do and I will not be underestimated. Of course, we are not talking about me. We are talking about this lovely music box, and the dance it portrays. Would you like to join me for one?

I w001d be honored, but I am afraid I don't know the steps

That won't be a problem. Although it is a role traditionally taken by the man, and rather demeaning to you, I will lead, like an honourable young gentleman helping a young debutante make a good impression at her ball.

A thick, glassy bead of blue sweat trickled down Equius' brow.

That is e%tremely...100dicrously...I...in fact, no. That will be fine

Equius gritted his teeth.

Then if you would help me shape this somnic encounter, I will provide the scene, you shall populate it.

Equius nodded, understanding. The bedroom was swept away, and replaced with a grand dancing hall. The hall was soon filled with robotic Aradias, standing two by two. Instruments appeared in the musicians' stand, and more Aradiabots appeared to pick them up. Sheet music manifested before the robots, and turned itself to the right pages. 

From a mix of her memory and imagination, Rose dressed her and her partner in some formal purple and blue suits, respectively. She takes Equius's hand in her own, and places her other around his waist. She took the opportunity to sneak in a passing grope of his firm, well-toned ass but put forth an innocent front to his incredulous gaze.

Now match your footwork with mine, and be extra careful not to step on my feet. That would be most shameful.

I...Yes

His whole body was tensed in restraint, and it caused his muscles to show even though the layers of the suit. Rose licked her lips and took the second step. She nodded to the Aradias on the stand, and the music started.

The movements came easily to her, a mind so vindicated rarely let anything slips by the cracks of memory. With full confidence and arrogance she showed the muscular troll how to walk the walk.

Did you know,

She grinned and pulled him tighter. He didn't dare exert himself against her frail frame. 

The waltz was first a peasant dance

The Aradias hit a high note, Rose and all the iron maidens on the floor spun their partners around.

When it was first brought to the ballroom, there was a tremendous fuss

She pulled more tightly on the blue-blood, pressing him right against her.

The partners stood with such closeness, it was called godless, shameless, indecent, an affront to good breeding.

Her hand slipped lower, and gripped confidently the troll's taut buttocks. Without knowing any better, the Aradiabots sharing the dance floor followed suit. Although she couldn't see his eyes through the shades, she felt his whole body slack for a moment as skirted close to passing out.

For hundreds of years it was considered indecent, now such indecency is held at the highest of class standards, the kind no-one follows anymore. It was once derided as no better than open copulation before an audience, but nowadays is considered more formal...than even formality warrants.

Her skin tingled from the heat radiating of the perspiring troll. With every third step she brushed her thigh against his groin, pressing down against the visible bulge straining against the fabric of his pants. His breath came in sharp, halted hisses. 

We fuck

She drew the word up in her throat, and spat it out gleefully like it was the highest blasphemy.

Through a few thin strips of cloth, tailored to our every contour, we do it with as many other people as we can find. This is something my people not only relished, but grew bored of and reinvented a thousand times over. Decadence is our treadmill and we'd rather die than fall off it.

Equius was paralyzed, his every muscle seized up from an irresistible need and an unstoppable horror. He couldn't tell when exactly they'd stopped dancing. He had no way of knowing when the pressure against his arousal had stopped being her thigh and stared being her hand. Rose leaned up on her toes and brought her face against his. Their breath mingled in the brief space between him. She gently bit his lip. Her tongue brushed across the cuts his broken teeth had left and tasted his noble blue blood. She leaned back and opened her mouth, showing his color upon her tongue. She closed her eyes and swallowed.

 

No. Stop. This is vulgar. This is filth. E%uisi- e%- e%tremely inappropriate. I...Towel. Towel! I need a fiddlesti%ing towel!

The world around them sucked away like water down a drain, leaving them back in Equius' hive. His eyes darted about the room for a cloth of any kind, but found only the satisfied smirk worn upon Rose's sultry black lips. He tore his gaze away from her face, only for it to be irresistibly drawn to the confident sway of her hips as she approached.

Have I left you flustered and anxious? Are you bothered that a girl of my standing is capable of such lewdness?

Equius pressed himself up against the wall. His mind demanded he find an escape, but the rest of him wasn't convinced it wanted to.

Or are you bothered by yourself,

She leaned into his neck and breathed deeply of his intoxicating scent. The smell was of crudeness and coarseness and unrestrained physicality.

Is it you that bothers you? The violence that soaks your body in a diluvian of desire better suited to a beast than a man, let alone a man of your stature, does it turn knots in your stomach as it enflames your loins?

She reached up with a delicate hand and stroked his neck; she felt the tautness of his muscles and the racing of his heart.

Which is worse? That you crave to degrade yourself, to rut like a beast of the field, to ravish and ruin all that you desire until it destroys you both? Or that you look into my eyes and see that same violence, and know that I am as much a filthy beast as you are?

He smelled like a field on a hot summer's day, like hours of solitude spent surrounded by stone and soul, like fire and metal and oil, like a living hearth in the darkness.

She slipped her hand inside his shirt and relished the feeling of his body; the prod definition it held and the trembling anxiety that made it twitch under her every slight touch.

I must not!

He hissed through broken teeth 

My touch...you will be harmed!

Then you are forbidden from touching me.

Rose coldly declared. The scene shifted again, and the two were once more deposited in Rose's room. She pulled her hand suddenly from under his shirt, which split apart revealing his chiseled torso. A needle gleamed in her hand.

If you are a vile brute that cannot control his strength, then I will not hold it against you. I will hold me against you, and your fear will hold you back.

She placed her hand against his chest and shoved him onto her bed. It was the most comfortable bed a filthy rich alcoholic could buy, and it sucked the Sagittarius troll in like a sand trap. Immediately his deep blue sweat began seeping into the quilt and cotton sheets.

You will not lay a finger on me, but I will lay everything upon you. You will be at my complete mercy, but only by your own violation. Surely a stallion like you could fling me from your thighs with just a single thrust of your hips.

Rose brushed her finger against her lip. 

But if you do you will know that you were not strong enough to hold yourself back

She loosened the collar of her godhood.

You ask...the impossible

I trust you

With a single graceful shrug, her divine vestments fall to the floor. She stood before her prize naked and without reserve. She not only allowed but welcomed him to greedily drink in her sight, her slender figure, and her smooth skin, the modest swell of her breasts, the lines of her pelvic cleft, the firm roundness of her buttocks, her precisely trimmed bush and the plumpness of her mound, which glistened with early arousal. She stood like someone innocent of the shame brought by the knowing of good and evil, or a divine being that had long since transcended such notions thanks to the violent instruction of an omniscient white ball.

Equius gulped down his shame. His pride would not let him insult a goddess by decrying their chosen partner as unworthy, even if that partner was his own contemptible self.

Does my form please you? Or would you prefer a body that expressed more...fertility? Don't speak. I want to see your honesty for myself

She stepped onto the bed, and crawled towards him on all fours. She curled her fingers over the waist of his shorts and slowly pulled them down, tormentingly slow. Finally free, his swollen member sprung forth in its full glory.  
Oh...oh my,

The blush and the hungry gaze that his penis brought upon his partner gave Equius no shortage of satisfaction. His endowment never failed to bring out an extreme reaction in those that saw it, good, bad, or Eridan...  
...  
That unpleasant memory was jolted aside by the feeling of warm hands being placed upon his shaft. One of Rose's soft hands gently stroked the underside of his cock, while the other gently teased his throbbing, swollen head with her fingertips. She marveled at its shape, the prominent veins that stood out against the smooth grey skin, the subtle contours of the head, slightly tinted with his blood it looked like it might burst with a single squeeze, like an overripe fruit. She leaned forward and planted a delicate kiss against the head, just a slight brushing of her black lips against the proud organ, never letting up on the gentle stroking of her fingers. Equius let out a slow, agonized moan. She could see his thighs clench, but was pleased when he didn't move. She murmured something incomprehensible in approval and rewarded his efforts with a light lick, just a gentle flick of her tongue against the base of his head.

Faint blue precum began to trickle steadily from his tip. The strong, musky scent made Roses head spin and caused her mouth to salivate openly. She opened as wide as she could, and slowly took his head into her mouth. The smell of his sweat and lubrication hit her even stronger than before. She couldn't have stopped her hand from seeking out her pussy if it killed her. His dick felt hot as an fireplace in her mouth. She swirled her tongue around the head as tough it would cool it down. A mix of spit and precum trickled down almost the full length of his shaft. She was only barely managing to hold his head in, let alone the rest of him. Some part of the Lalonde's brain clicked as she recognized the challenge before her. She took a long, deep breath, and with a gulping motion started to take more of the Sagittarian troll’s length. Millimeter by precious millimeter she slowly claimed more of his shaft in the tight confines of her throat. Just one inch in and her eyes were already tearing up from the effort, but the pride in her heart and the fire between her legs kept her going. Two fingers plunged in and out of her increasingly wet pussy, her thumb ground her clit back and forth like it might disappear. She breathed in sharply through her nose, slipped in another finger, and then forced another half inch of the goliath penis into her mouth.

Please...stop...you WILL be hurt

Equius groaned between sharp breaths.

'No!' Rose yelled inside her mind. 'This is a dream. This is MY dream. I will NOT be told what I am capable of in a place like this!' She could feel the start of her orgasm coming. She remained still, gasping and panting for air her body didn’t need around a dick her mind said she couldn't take. When the white-hot burn of her orgasm hit her, she forced her mouth down further, and kept forcing. Still coming and numbed from it, she slowly forced her head down the rest of Equius' shaft, inch by precious inch, and came down to place the most difficult kiss of her lie against the base of the blue-blooded troll's groin. She gulped uncontrollably, and the muscles at the back of her throat stroked the end of his shaft with their convulsions.

Miss Lalonde!

His hands clenched the bed sheets so hard they tremble. Rose felt the surge coming, and emptied her lungs of what little air they had left. The first jet hit her the hardest, she hadn't prepared as much as she should have. When it shot straight down her throat it took all her willpower to suppress the effort. She gulped down the second hot spurt hungrily, and then let the rest of his erupting fluids pool in her mouth. The texture was thick, but free flowing. He quickly filled her mouth, forcing her to swallow down more just to make room. When she felt its intensity start to subside she yanked herself off of him as fast as she could, careful to spill as little as possible. She fought down the urge to gasp for air, which would spill the precious fluid carried in her mouth, Instead she concentrated on taking deep breaths through her nose. She looked up at him and smiled. It was a half-lidded, almost drunken look of pride and accomplishment, only enhanced by the trickle of blue troll cum dribbling out the corner of her mouth.

Equius opened his mouth to speak, but she silenced him with a finger gently placed against his lips. He still hadn't budged an inch, and his muscled bulged visibly from the effort.

Rose climbed up on top of him and straddled his hips. His half-flaccid but no less impressive cock nestled between her legs and against her stomach, leaving a thin trail of blue slime behind it. The tip lay just below her navel, and it was plain to see how unreasonable it would be to try and fit the whole thing inside her small, thin body, but Rose was undeterred. She brought her hands up to her mouth, cupped them, and let all of the collected jizz pour into her hands. 

Let’s both be filthy, in every way.

She brought her hands down to where their groins met and parted her fingers. The thick, goopy mess spilled forth, dripping down all over their crotches. 

Rose slid forward across his toned chess, reached back with her hand and lined up his cock with her pussy. She slid back, and forced the head inside of her. The copious amounts of blue slime kept the pain away, but didn’t eliminate the resistance. After first parting her netherlips it was a slow descent upon his manhood. After parting her lips his nephilim dick demanded every spark of effort to push it inside of her. The swollen head separated her delicate folds ad steadily strained her insides to their limit. Between her hunger for pleasure and her need for success Rose hardly noticed the discomfort from her too swift insertion. Al, she knew was her loins where on fire and her partner was trapped between her legs, right where she wanted him. She pushed herself a little deeper, letting more and more of her be filled up, cherishing the pressure in her afforded to her by the high-class cock inside her. Equius' face twitched with every slight movement, his chapped lips silently mouthing treatises of pleading and begging. Rose smiled and licked her lips. With one hand to keep her steady and the other to hold him in place, she carefully moved forward, taking every caution not to lose even a hint of penetration while changing their angle to something more comfortable to both of them. She lowered herself so that her chest laid against his, and her clit ground against his pelvic bone with ever shift of her hips. She looked up at his face, her eyes dilated and her cheeks flush, her pouty black lips hung agape and needy. She beheld him longingly, his strong cheekbones, his firm chin, his expression of torment muted by concern for. Laying on him like this he looked like Atlas, using all of his strength to keep the sky from the Earth, but for just a short while she was his sky, and all of her amazing strength was being used for her sake. Rose let out a light moan, with just a hint of sadness to it. He was too tall; she couldn't kiss those bruised lips from their position, not without giving up the wonderful feeling of him inside her. She lowered her head and nibbled on the base of his neck. She rolled her hips slightly, and smiled at the groan it earned her.

Rose rocked her hips back and forth, exploring her pussy with the titanic organ half-inside her, no longer holding back the little gasps and moans when she found a movement that felt good. She braced her hands against the damp, 100% cotton sheet and slowly pulled her hips forward. Her breath cut short at the feeling of his broad head scraping against her walls. She tried to pull for as long as she could, then thrust herself back as hard as she dared. She collapsed against his chest and panted, her hot breath gliding across his pectorals and along his neck. She'd claimed another full inch.

Do not force yourself

Equius spoke evenly, but couldn't hide his sharp, rattling breaths. 

If it is my own need that concern you...I...

He swallowed a hesitant gulp.

Choke me.

Rose didn't move for a few seconds. She looked up at him. His cracked shades, still secure on his head, made his face impenetrable. She reached up to his face, cupped his cheek with one slender hand, and gently removed his glasses with the other. His eyes, brilliantly blue and wide with fear, were bloodshot and barely focused. Around the eyes, too, his rich blueness stained his skin from beneath. Rose let his glasses fall to the floor, and held his face with both her hands. She rocked her hips back, and let her long pale fingers slide down to his neck. She ground her hips around in a circle, and carefully spaces her fingers around the troll's carotid arteries, or 'gasbreath fluidsluices' or whatever they call them on Alternia.

Rose grunted and bucked her hips, just enough to feel the pressure push from one wall to the other. She tightened her grip around the protruding blood vessels of his firm neck. He let out a moan that could have melted ice sculptures in the arctic. She shook her pelvis, and wiggled it and shifted it about in all the ways that made his horsepressive member prod, rub and grind against all the best spots she'd found so far. Her hands squeezed his neck, with precise intent she compressed against his blood in just the right spots to leave his brain begging for hair. He gasped, and she took a morbid satisfaction in the way this discomfort brought a crooked rise to the corner of his mouth. She changed the movements of her lower half, stretched to a visible bulge by the large presence inside her. She focused on the best shift found son far, the one that ground her clit back and forth against his pelvis while pushing his invasive dick against the upper wall of her cunt. She let out a gasp that turned into a moan then into a silent scream as her throbbing clit was squeezed from both sides. Without even meaning to any more, her hands squeezed against the Sagittarian’s neck with all her might. The great pressure that had been building in her loins since she first stepped near the highbrowed troll hit and blew past her limits. Her whole lower half thrust and bucked out of her control, asking him even deeper into her than she thought possible and sent her mind blindly electric with pleasure. Every cell of her cunt chorused with pleasure and fullness so loud she could no longer see straight. 

The first new sensation she became aware of was the sopping wetness between her legs. Her brain, paranoid and suspicious, quickly realised that somewhere between her own orgasm and the no longer consciously measured strangulation she had brought Equius to and beyond his own orgasm. The fit, blue blooded troll gasped in silted moans by the second. His own modesty had finally caved into his urges and lustful being he could never repress grunted in full adulation of the pleasure she had brought him. He just kept coming, more and more of his liquid fire flooding inside of her. When the fluids escaping her folds had reach and exceeded and immodest flow she let out a content, fulfilled sigh. Rose placed both hands upon Equius' chest and pulled herself forward. The release of his neck made Equius gasp with wanton abandon, his whole face burning with cerulean starvation. She tore herself off from him, and forced her lips against his. She mashed her lips against his like she would die without their coarse touch. His thick hard cock slipped out from her blue stained nethers and after a moment's bounce came to rest between her shapely ass, spilling the last of his seed upon her final, puckered, bastion. Rose didn't care. What mattered to her was that everything from her breast to her toes burned his hunger that conquering the aristocratic troll's mouth seemed to sate. Her arms wriggled their way between the sheets and his back and held him as close to her as her strength could muster, while her tongue tried to express the release felt by her entire body. She scraped his teeth and tickled his mouth and wrestled with his own tongue to her heart’s content, but eventually, the fire turned to an ember, and she layer upon his chest, his flaccid girth nestled between her thighs, feeling his heart beat against her chest and with her mouth pressed against his. 

You are e%quisite

she mimicked his accent not in mocking, but in fondness. 

And I long to see how you grow from here, though I may not see it, for I am but a dreamer in dead lands. 

She let her head rest against his head, and listened to the phantom beating of a dead man's heart. She swore to herself to visit again the blue blooded troll that upheld values, not because he was convicted in their truth, but because it was all he had.


End file.
